Nick of Darkness
by HanSK
Summary: Nick of Darkness is an ambitious crossover saga which takes old familiar characters from Nickelodeon's many different cartoons, but set into a darker, more devious, more conspiratorial universe - the World of Darkness.
1. Chapter 1

With the last bits of his strength, he walked forward.  
The heat burned his body, he found it difficult to even breath.  
The pitch-black darkness that enveloped the sky, was pierced by a single light source. A red star.  
Its light wasn't strong enough to banish the darkness that swallowed the world, yet strong enough to burn a persons eyes. It burned both, the body and soul.  
All around him lied the sorry remains of the city he once used to call his home. Where the buildings he once knew stood, only rubble and ashes left.  
And in between the rubble, and on the streets he walked, dead bodies were scattered like old broken rag-dolls.  
Stripped of all clothing, their skin almost completely burned off, empty eye sockets and faces rid of almost all individual features.  
With all his will he tried to ignore the fact that some of them weren't really dead yet. Some of them attempted to move, but their attempts were futile. Others called for help, but their crushed and burned throats and scorched lungs only released silent moans, that got lost in the wind.  
He was trying not to see. He pretended to be blind and deaf, oh how he wished to be blind and deaf, he was so horrified by the thought he might identify one of them as one of his loved-ones.  
He looked forwards, just forwards. He was afraid to look at his own hands, afraid that he might see them scorched to the bone.  
Why is he alive?  
Why did this happen?  
What happened?  
He felt the urge to go away, away from this all. But he didn't know where, he just walked. Just walked.  
The air was dry and heavy, There was a feel of static in the air.  
"Like the inside of a microwave" his mind whispered. He shrugged.  
How could he even think of such nonsense in such a time like this. Is he going mad?  
He saw shadows, a bunch of shadows burned on the wall.  
Silhouettes trapped in eternity.  
Then he saw it. A figure standing in the middle of the road. It wasn't moving.  
His tears fell, evaporating mediately after hitting the ground.  
The hair burned away, the skin scorched, eyeballs missing.  
The lips burned off,so the nose, no clue of what happened to the ears.  
Yet, he still knew. He knew that he looks into the lifeless face of...

Arnold woke up, wet with sweat.  
Why?  
What's wit these nightmares?  
He looked at the clock. It was 5:30 "I guess I won't sleep any more" said he, as he stood up from his bead.

He looked out of the window.  
It was still night, alto the sun was about to rise in a minute.  
"What are you so worried about?"he asked himself "It's not like there's a red star going to appear or anything."  
He shuddered. He was having nightmares for almost a week now.  
Natural disasters, warfare, monsters like from a bad 70s horror-movie, apocalyptic visions. All those dreams had one thing in common, the red star.  
He stared into the night, deep in thoughts.  
"What does this mean?"  
"Probably nothing" he quickly replied to himself, probably I'm just going crazy.  
But from what?  
High-school? He never had too much difficulties there.  
The new boarders? Sure, the Reddishs seemed quite creepy, and there were some nasty rumours about them, but nothing to have nightmares about.  
Helga and Harold getting on his nerves all the time? they were doing it since grade-school. If someone is crazy then it's them for not getting tired of it after so many years.  
When he thought about it, it was somehow strange. He lived in a big city, yet, somehow, he always ran into the same people.  
Gerald, Helga, Harold, Phoebe, Rhonda, Stinky, Eugene, Sid, Curly, Lila, Brainy...  
He shuddered again, remembering his dream.  
He turned on the radio.  
Six-o-clock What? He stood there for so long? The sun was already up.  
The morning news weren't too cheerful either.  
A bunch of terrorists apparently ambushed a airport in Atlanta, hijacked a plane full of passengers, and mysteriously disappeared.  
Some kid, (well, about his age) in Dimmsdale went missing and people in L.A. claim to have seen aliens - probably a mass hallucination.  
Not to mention that they still haven't caught that serial-killer...  
"Oh well, a day just like any other."

After doing his morning hygiene, it was 6:30.  
"How come I'm so slow today?"  
Arnold walked down the stairs.  
Mr. Potts, Mr. Hyunh and the Reddishs were already down, having breakfast.

The Reddishs were a quite interesting couple. Quite the prove that opposites attract.  
Mr. Galacto Reddish was a man in his 40s. Pale skin, black hair with blue highlights, green eyes.  
He ALWAYS wore a business suit, bowler hat and a monocle. He spoke with a fake Oxford accent.  
His wife, Rodette Reddish also appeared to be pale, but while Mr. Reddish appeared to be pale due to the lack of sunlight, Mrs. Reddish looked like if she was sick, but she was not.  
She could be described at best as an aged punker, her hair dyed blue, wearing torn jeans, boots and an old t-shirt. To make things even worse, due to some pigmentation defect, she had pink eyes and crooked teeth.  
People generally felt uncomfortable around these two.

"Good morning" Arnold greeted the boarders.  
"Good morning" they greeted back.

He sat down with the others.  
Mr. Potts was telling Mr. Hyunh something about a contract the Wrecking company he works in signed with the the Endron conglomerate. He seemed quite happy about it, since Endron is generally known for paying its workers well.

Mr. Reddish, was silently drinking his coffee and seemed to be thinking about something very important, unlike his wife who seemed to be too preoccupied with eating her ham-and-eggs.  
Grandma was running around the kitchen dressed in a stereotypical farmers suit, alto she seemed to be a bit more worried than usual. So was grandpa.  
"She had a bad dream tonight" he whispered.  
Arnold rose an eyebrow.  
"What sort of nightmare was it?" he asked cautiously.  
"Not sure, but it had something to do with India."  
"India?"  
"Well, she was yelling words like 'Zapathasura' 'Anthelios' and 'Ravana' "  
"Grandpa, Anthelios isn't a Indian word, it sounds more like something Greek."  
"Short Man, you are talking to a man who barely finished grade school, I'm just rather surprised she isn't serving us curry right now."  
"And how is she now?"  
"She doesn't seem to remember it, I was so worried when I saw her like that. Then she wakes up, and asks me if I milked the cows, why do you think we are up so early?"  
"The others had nightmares too?"  
"Nah, Ernie and Hyunh are simply early-birds, and so seem our new boarders, what about you short man?"  
"Eh, what?"  
"By the way you asked, it seemed you had a bad dream."  
"Yeah, a really nasty one, probably watched too many WW2 documentaries."  
A chill went down his spine, as he realized that Mr. Reddish is silently listening to them.  
"Don't you think it is a bit strange" Arnold quickly returned to their conversation "for two people having nightmares at the same time?"  
"Nah, things like this happen time to time, it's what they call 'coincidence', now three people, THAT would be worth the thought."

Arnold sat on the stairs in front of the Sunset Arms boarding house. He still had enough time. He was thinking about calling Gerald to meet him before school, but he didn't want to bother him.  
"What's with these dreams I'm having?" he thought to himself, he was doing that quite often the last few days.  
"It all started this week, almost immediately after the disaster in India."  
It was all over the news, extremely heavy monsoon in India killed thousands of people.  
"That's when my nightmares began.  
Grandma was saying Indian words in her sleep.  
Could this be a coincidence?"  
"Probably yes" he quickly shook the thought away "it is probably just the milk we both drank and grandma's dreams were probably somehow related to the tragedy in India"  
He suddenly realized that he is being watched.  
He turned around to see Mr. Reddish standing behind him.  
"Bad dreams troubling you?"  
"Bet you pardon?"  
"I couldn't overhear your conversation, I'm sorry."  
"No problem."  
"You know, it is quite a coincidence whet two people have nightmares at the same time, don't you think?"  
"Nah, the milk was probably spoiled, poor granny, she probably dreamed about the disaster in India."  
"Oh yeah, quite a tragedy. Heard strange rumours about it though, some claim it wasn't a monsoon after all."  
He suddenly garbed Arnold by his shoulders so strong it hurt. Arnold attempted to scream, but the voice won't come out.  
"Arnold" he whispered into his ear "me and my wife dreamt of the Red Star as well, and no, we did not drink the milk."

Arnold turned around, but there was no-one standing behind him.  
He went to school, without telling anyone about this incident.

When he arrived before the school, he still had some time to spare.  
It was a cold and windy morning, and the building of Hillwood High-School did not give a too optimistic first impression.  
In fact, however, it was one of the better High-Schools you could find here. Sure, it wasn't too noble, it wasn't too well equipped and a hygiene-inspector would probably die of a heart-attack if he saw it (which was probably the reason why the school never had problems with the inspection in the first place), but it was still a decent place to attend.  
It wasn't one of those schools controlled by gangs, where all students and teachers wore guns with their fingers itching (alto some teachers probably did carry guns, just to be safe)  
This part of the city was generally rather safe, even thou a bit run-down. It was one of those anomalies you sometime encounter trough your life. Like the fact that so many of his friends from grade-school were attending this place too. Alto, it wasn't SUCH a coincidence.  
The place was close, cheap and safe, what more could you wish for?  
"Hey Arnold!" said a familiar voice behind him.  
"Hey Gerald!"  
"Early today, aren't we?"  
"I guess so." "Still having bad dreams?"  
"Yes."  
"I'm sorry to hear that."  
"Nah, that's not your fault."  
Gerald was one of the few people he told about his problem. The others wouldn't probably give a damn, or would simply take advantage of him because of that. The only students he could trust were Gerald and Lila, and since he did not want to bother her, he told only Gerald.  
"So? What was it today man?"  
"A bad memory of America's past crimes, lashing back on to me."  
"Oh, that sounds nasty. Tell me... Wait! No! I rather don't want to hear it, it would be something depressing, would it?"  
"Lets just not talk about it, ok? Otherwise, how is life treating ya?"  
"Well, dad discovered a new way to save money, now we all have to take our internet time in rations, can you believe it?"  
"Ya."  
"Of course, that pus a great limit to my night-life down there. And what about you? Anything not dream-related?"  
"Well, my neighbour seems to have a crush on me."  
"Who? Oskar?"  
"Galacto"  
"What? That Clock-Walk Orange cosplayer with a Sex-Pistol fetish? He doesn't seem to be the type who likes to play with (foot)balls" the 'foot' part being said in a different tone, as if it didn't matter.  
"HeHaHa, very funny Gerald."  
"But really, another point on the suspect list."  
"What? Are you still stalking those two?"  
"Arnold, they are clearly suspicious!"  
"Gerald! Remember that fiasco with Mr. Smith?"  
"Yes, and I still think he is working for the CIA!"  
"That is possible, but we are not children any more, we can't just go around stalking people just because they act strange."  
"Why not? The president told..."  
"Gerald, I think it is time for school now."  
"Oh, ok."

Time flies. They barely made it to the first lesson. The atmosphere was very tense, so no-one really cared anyway. The heating didn't work, so the student had to concentrate one the subject in order to forget the cold. That was probably meant to be like that.

His classmates weren't too talkative and remained surprisingly silent for the most part of the day (with the exception of re-occurring grunting noises from Harold, and Curly who was muttering something in non-sense gibberish and giggled to himself.)  
It wasn't until recess, that they finally got together.

"Hey! Football-skull! Stop staring so dumb!"  
"Sorry Helga, I was just thinking..."  
"About what? A touchdown?"  
People around busted out laughing.  
"Nothing of your business" said Arnold after the laughter stopped.  
"You are right quarterback! Like if I cared about what sick stuff is going on in your thick, hollow, misshapen yet strangely fascinating and unbelievably..."  
"What the heck are you talking about Helga?" asked Gerald with a slightly curious voice.  
"That's none of your business Mr. 9/11th!"  
'Here we go again' though Arnold to himself.  
Helga always liked to pick on him for no obvious reason. Ever since kindergarten. He never really understood why. He always tried to be nice to her.  
But recently, she started to be really unbearable.  
He had no problems indulging her constant nagging, her insults or even her bullying, but the recent development simply annoyed him.  
Whenever Helga spoke to him, sooner or later she began saying utter non-sense, then a rage-outburst without the slightest provocation and taking it out on her whole surrounding, mostly him.  
At first, he was worried that she might have some problems, but after realizing that she acts perfectly normal (at least according to her standards) while talking to others, he began to have the feeling that she is doing it only to spite him.  
Even his usually endless optimism started leaving him around her, and he seriously started giving up on her.  
"Any news about the suspects?"  
"What?"  
"Da gangstars next door football mon!"  
"They aren't any gangsters Harold, just eccentric."  
"Don't say da shit mon! Its da fact!"  
"Stop with that stupid accent Herold, it does not make you any cooler!"  
"I'm da sex, yo da balls!"  
"Well, Harold does have a point" said Sid, they appeared around the same time as that gang war started."  
"Yeah!" said Helga, "Just look at them! They ought to be part of some gang! Or at leas cannibals!"  
"Or dealers!" said Sid.  
"Or terrorists!" added Stinky.  
"Guys, listen! How many times did this sort of rushed conclusions get us into trouble, or at least completely humiliated us?" protested Arnold.  
"Eeh, about a hundred times?"  
"And haven't we learned anything out of it?"  
The group consisting of three pubescent boys and one person that should be theoretically called a girl quietly stared at him, and then continued in their bizarre accusations.  
"Give it up Arnie" said Gerald while tapping his back "they haven't learned anything and never will."  
"You do realize that this attitude might one day bring them in great trouble."  
"Either that, or turn them into the best paparazzi the world has ever seen."  
Meanwhile the four-head group has finally agreed that Arnold's new neighbours are probably cannibalistic fairy-gangsters who dye their underwear red in the blood of their victims, and that they ought to do something about it.  
"Gentleman!" Said Helga with a commanding voice "this is probably the most important day of our young lives!  
This is the day when we shall prove our bravery to this wonderful country." continued Helga in a dramatic manner. "We'll look danger into the eye and uncover the mysteries!"  
"Oh, brother!" muttered Arnold to himself and he could see that Gerald probably taught the same.  
"We shall pay our debt to our beloved country, secure piece and prove my worth to my beloved..."  
Breathing.  
A swift punch.  
Brainy goes KO.  
"What are you looking at?" said Helga angrily to the group "Get lost! We'll meet on the agreed place on the agreed time"  
"When dats supposed to be?" asked Harold clueless.  
"I'll call you when the time comes." said Stinky as they walked away.  
"In her age..." said Gerald sarcastically while everyone went their way.  
"Well, that's Helga" said Arnold "always the centre of attention."  
"She needs it" said Phoebe, who was watching the group from afar the whole time.  
"I know, the thing with her family" replied Arnold "but every time someone tries to be nice to her, she tuns on them."  
"Are you now referring to your self?" asked Gerald jokingly.  
"Originally" continued Arnold, ignoring the remark "I thought that she was just closed in her 'shell', and that all she needs was to open-up a bit, but after all those years, I'm just starting to think that she is just being a jerk."  
"Don't say such things about her" protested Phoebe "she has her reasons."  
"Like what?" asked Gerald.  
"You would be surprised" replied Phoebe as she walked away.  
The only people who remained was a unconscious Brainy and a giggling Curly.

They met after school in the agreed place. Near the building of the Sunset Arms boarding house.  
They were hiding behind the dumpster. The whole group consisted of Helga, Harold, Stinky, Sid, Arnold, Gerald and Phoebe, who nobody knew why she actually came but no one cared to ask.  
"This is a waste of time" said Arnold.  
"Since when is serving your country a waste of time? Are you a communist? I should have thought so! Your head! The shape of a football. AMERICAN Football! The perfect cover for a spy! You fooled everyone but me! I'm too smart for you! I saw trough your flawed attempts at seducing me. You thought that only because of your beautiful eyes and perfect hair for ever and your sexy formed..."  
"What the hell are you talking about!"  
"Stop interrupting me Stinky! Here is the point. As we found out from our football-headed source here..."  
"Why have I told them?"  
"...the suspects usually spend the whole day inside the building. Then they leave exactly at five o'clock in the afternoon, and don't return until midnight. The question is, what are they doing all the time?"  
"Perhaps working" replied Gerald sarcastically.  
"Only criminals work at night!"  
"That's not true" protested Arnold "the police, doctors, firemen, store clerks, they all work nigh shifts."  
"So da fuzz are gangstars? Ma head hurts!"  
"You see what you did balls-brain? You blew his fragile little mind!"  
"I did not..."  
Suddenly they stopped. They all felt it.  
The intensive smell of old cigarettes, cheap beer, whiskey, sweaty sneakers, garlic and glue. But it wasn't just an ordinary stench that you smell with your nose, they felt it with heir very minds and souls, more of an idea than a sensation. The front door opened, it was Mrs. Reddish. The experience grew even more intense after she exited the building. The 'smell' they felt seemed to be more of an actual concept, her very essence. She was its source and its incarnation at the same time. It represented everything she was and she was everything it embodied.  
Of course, no-one actually realized this, most of them just thought "Damn! Take a shower!"  
A t-shirt long time not washed, old sneakers and ripped jeans that worn so loosely that her underwear was showing.  
Harold realized that it was red.  
Suddenly, the 'aura' was pierced by another presence. It seemed like a single white dot on a black background. Like a sharp shiny needle in an old pillow. Mr. Reddish came out of the building. His presence felt like expensive soap, deodorant, shoe polish and high-quality aftershave. His presence didn't feel as all-overwhelming as Rodettes, but it was the sort that you can't overlook or ignore.  
They both walked down the stairs and headed down the road.  
"After them!" whispered Helga.  
"Hey, I really don't think it is a good idea."  
"Who cares what you think, football-skull!"  
"I do!"  
"STFU Gustave Eiffel! Lets go!"  
The group followed the strange couple. Gerald protested a bit, but it was useless. All reasoning in the world is useless once Harold grabs you. Soon, the only people left behind the dumpster were Arnold and Phoebe.  
"What now?"  
"I guess I'll just follow Helga, so she won't embarrass herself too much."  
"You are willing to go trough that trouble because of her?"  
"She is a friend. What about you?"  
"My friendship probably reached its limits."  
"Oh, ok then. See you Arnold."  
"See you Phoebe."  
After this, Arnold went back home.  
Years after this he kept asking himself whether it was the right decision.

Arnold spent the rest of the day in front of the TV. Not that it would interest him too much, but he didn't feel like anything today. He was just aimlessly flipping trough the channels, one program stupider than the other.  
"What's going on with me? What's wrong? Why em I going so down the drain? Not only the dreams, they started just a week ago, but I have been in this state of mind for almost two months by now. Everything either annoys me or creeps me out. I should see a doctor."  
After realizing that one program really IS stupider than the other, he decided to watch the one that was the least stupid. If you take in account that it was some cooking-show, in which basically all that was going on was some guy covering the plate with mayo, you can imagine HOW stupid the other programs were.  
Arnold thought about doing something more productive, but they didn't get any homework and he just couldn't force himself to any activity at the incriminated moment.  
So he just kept on staring. He started a staring contest with the tv. He stared at the screen, he stared at the host "damn, this is really not me" he stared at the audience. He thought about sleeping, but he felt it wouldn't help.  
"We interrupt this program..."  
This words tore him out of his lethargy. Live news. There was a shoot-out. In his city. In his town. Apparently two rival gangs started a shoot-out in front of a mini-mall. Many bystanders were apparently caught in the crossfire. Some people were apparently wounded. The fight still raged on.  
The News seemed to get to the place sooner than the police. Typical. Now the live pictures came. It was surprising how small the 'gangs' were in number.  
One consisted of apparently three people. A young woman and a middle-aged man, whose faces were covered. The third one was apparently hiding in a van.  
The second 'gang' were in fact just two people. It were...  
"No. No, not them!" Arnold looked in terror.  
"Oh my God! Please no!"  
Arnold was shaking in terror by that bare thought. His friends...  
Are they amongst the wounded? Were they lucky enough to escape? Are they still there, amongst the people caught between those two lines?  
Why? Why did they insist on following them?  
"What the hell?" were the words of the news teams cameraman who tried to get closer to get a better picture "What the hell is this. Oh, damn! Oh, God! No, no, NO!"  
The sound went into static, the picture to white-noise.  
"Johny? Johny? !"  
Yelled the guy in the studio. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hunter-Net

Mothman630 Gentlemen, I'm really disappointed in you! Not only did you fail to capture the subjects, but you also risked exposure, attracted unwanted media attention, caused unnecessary collateral damage and caused unacceptable causalities amongst the civilians! What do you have to say for yourself?

GhostHunter633 Hey, don't blame me!  
The mission was going all according to plan, until Denzel here run out of the van yelling "FAIRIES! FAIRIES!" and started shooting everything in sight!

DoctorCroctopus632 So typical of you Ms. Gray to push the blame on somebody else. We clearly know that it was your reckless driving that caused the subjects to notice our presence! I was merely trying to save the situation!

Mothman630 How many times have I told you? No real names on the forum!

monsterhunter659 And this is why I suggested my self to lead the operation

DoctorCroctopus632 Shut up Simon!

GhostHunter633 Shut Up Simon!

monsterhunter659 It was MY van!

GhostHunter633 Emphasis on "was"

DoctorCroctopus632 lol Good one Val!

monsterhunter659 THIS IS NOT FUNNY!

Mothman630 You people are impossible! It's because of the likes of you that our quest is advancing at such a slow pace!

DoctorCroctopus632 We are the reason why we make any advance at all! If it were you, we would just sit around all day talking about how we should do something

Mothman630 Strategy is required! We are supposed to seek knowledge about these phenomena, not blowing them up!

DoctorCroctopus632 I think they should all just burn

GhostHunter633 Me too

monsterhunter659 I don't

GhostHunter633 Shut-up!

Mothman630 You people are really impossible

Mothman630 - Logged Out

GhostHunter633 What a douche!

DoctorCroctopus632 You said something different when he gave us our allowances

GhostHunter633 Go to hell!

GhostHunter633 - Logged Out

DoctorCroctopus632 - Logged Out

monsterhunter659 hello?

***  
DIB logged off and erased his history.  
He released a sigh of frustration. This wasn't the fist time something like this happened. Alto to be fair, his associates weren't always the ones to blame. Mr. Crocker and Ms. Grey despite their 'quirks' were both very skilled hunters. Who most of the time knew what they were doing. Most of the time. But even if one of them didn't butcher-up the mission by going in all Rambo, the success rate of capturing a live specimen was pretty-much non-existent. He was lucky if he could at least do an autopsy, and he felt he already gathered all the data he could get from those. It didn't help that some of the creatures upon being slain disintegrated or reverted into a different form. His secret lab was full of these and a few more useful samples. He needed a living specimen to advance in his research, no matter what the cost. "Ehm, Mr. Membrane sir?" his secretary entered the room. "Yes Zita?"  
"It's already past working hours, sir."  
"Of course, you may go. I'll stay a few more hours."  
His secretary left the office and went home. "Man, that guy is crazy" she thought to herself.

Meanwhile in a completely different office. "I assume you watch the news Mr. Fenton."  
"I do madam."  
"Then you probably know about yesterday's disaster in Hillwood." "Yes, the police suspects a gang-war that grew out of proportion, alto I also heard of the possibility of a terrorist attack. Are you suggesting that..."  
"Not at all. Lets just say that someone has a huge interest in finding the culprit and he does not think the police can do the job."  
"Aha, so a standard investigation mission?"  
"Pretty much. You go there, question the witnesses, maybe take some photos and return for further instructions."  
"Sounds simple enough."  
"Since Hillwood is too remote for a standard procedure, you'll get a transport. Your partner is already waiting for you in the garage. Approach your work as you see fit, just don't cause too much of an uproar."  
"Yes madam!" he replied "I'll be on my way."  
He turned around and started exiting the office. "Oh, and Danny? "  
"Yes?"  
"Put some warm clothes on, they say it's quite cold in Hillwood at the moment."  
"Yes mom." He exited the office and walked down the corridor. The building of Amity Park's Orpheus division was half empty. The reason for this was no mystery, it was late and most employees were at home. But for the Fentons there was no time-off. His parents loved the job way too much. That and they lived in the building. The only people in the building besides his family at the moment was the night watch and a few technicians in the basement looking after the Sleepers. He wasn't sure if the Sleepers themselves count, they were there but in a way also weren't if that makes any sense. He entered the company's garage. His partner was already waiting. "Good evening Jazz."  
"Good evening Danny." "So another all-nighter with my dear big sister."  
"Actually this mission is going to be night and day, we won't get to Hillwood before sunrise."  
"Sometimes I wonder how your body can take it."  
"That's simple, it can't. I've been running on coffee and amphetamines for two days by now. The question isn't whether it will kill me, but when."  
"Should you be even driving?"  
"Should you?"  
"Touch "  
They took the company's black Humvee in case Jazz would get her long awaited heart-attack. That way the causalities in the ensuing traffic accident won't be as big, at least not on their side. The car's interior was rather comfortable with black leather seats, which was a good thing because they had a long way ahead of them. They sat into the car, Jazz turned-on the engine and they drove out of the underground garage into the night. They drove trough the streets of Amity Park heading for the highway. Danny watched the people in the streets, the city's night-life. He couldn't remember when was the last time he got to do something outside of his job. Not to say that his job was boring. Oh no, in fact it was the exact opposite. But too much excitement is bad for your health if you don't have the time to chill. The last time he can remember doing something like that was when they were stuck in an elevator together. He loosened up and turned-on the radio. Queen wason. "Jazz?"  
"Yes?"  
"You know, when we arrive in Hillwood we don't need to hurry too much with the mission. There isn't exactly a time-limit, perhaps we could..."  
"I'd rather not, I don't want to appear shiftless in the eyes of our employee."  
"Our parents are our employees!"  
"That's no reason for us to have any privilege!"  
"Privilege?" Danny replied with a strongly irritated voice "we are already working overtime on a daily basis!"  
"That's just a small price for a stable and well-paid job!"  
"What's money worth if you can't spend it?"  
"Don't be ungrateful!"  
"I'm being ungrateful? I put my neck on the line on a daily basis! I often work 24 hours without eating or sleeping and I never even asked for a damn vacation! I'm not sure who's the ungrateful one here!"  
"Don't talk about our parents this way!"  
"Who mentioned our parents?"  
An awkward silence spread throughout the vehicle. The two silently stared in front of themselves. They stayed silent as the car left the city and went out on the highway. "I'm sorry" Jazz was the first one to brake the silence. "No problem" Danny replied "I should have known better."  
"No, I'm being too strict on us all. I promise that after we finish our work in Hillwood we'll do something for ourselves."  
"As long as it doesn't involve chains..."  
"I told you that I have no idea where that tape came from!"  
The two laughed.  
It was always like this. The following few hours they spent in friendly bickering and joking. Enough to make them forget that they should be tired. This little past-time was however interrupted when Danny noticed something near the road. It was a gas station, but what was going-on in there was what caught his attention. "Could you pull-over?"  
"You know what happened last time..."  
"I know, that's why I want you to pull-over."  
The gas station was in an uproar, some pasty teen was running around like a headless chicken and rambling nonsense. "What's going on?" asked Danny politely after exiting the car.  
"I have no idea" said one of the employees "this kid just suddenly arrived and started rambling about someone wanting to eat him."  
"He's after me! Why the fuck doesn't anyone listen to me?" yelled the teen.  
"Who's after you?"  
"That guy!"  
"What guy?"  
"That stinking ugly dude! He's been chasing me for three day now!"  
"Why is he chasing you?"  
"I called him an ugly fart!"  
"And?"  
"I took his bag."  
Danny and the gas station workers looked blankly at each other.  
"Did you call the police?"  
"The sheriff is already on his way."  
"OK, I may as well tank here while I'm at it."  
Moments later Danny was back in the car and they continued in their journey leaving the pale greasy teen screaming behind. "Now that was pointless" Jazz commented. Danny shrugged "you can't always be the hero."  
The rest of the journey passed without any significant events. They arrived in Hillwood around 5 o'clock in the morning. They got to the site of the accident rather quick since there wasn't any traffic. Even in the faint light you could see the disastrous effects. "Let's get this over with" said Jazz while taking out the cameras and exiting the car. The two crossed the yellow bands, there was no-one guarding the place. They started snapping pictures. Yes, the police and the media probably did that too before them, but they may not have the right hardware to capture all the important details.  
Danny heard that the accident was probably the result of a gang war that went out of hand, but seeing the site of the incident he had problems believing that. The only way a gang could have done that would be if they had some heavy military equipment. Where the mall once stood, there were just smouldering remains. Anything that was of any worth was ransacked and looted long ago. The ground was covered with craters.  
It must have been a really strong blast too. The surrounding area was partially evacuated. The windows on some of the surrounding buildings were broken, as were the windows on the cars. The two carefully photographed the whole area, they were slowly loosing faith of there being anything useful in it, but those were the orders.  
Now comes the hard part.  
It was obvious they wouldn't get any more info from the mundane witnesses than the police and media already did. The information was really scarce. Here is what pretty much everyone knows, two customers were leaving the mall, a Caucasian man and woman, the man dressed conservatively, the woman dressed in the fashion of the British 70s Punk movement. Upon exiting the mall, a van suddenly drove in front of them only to crash into a container. A middle-aged Caucasian man run out of the van screaming loudly and then opening fire with a shotgun. Some witnesses claim that he was screaming something about faeries. The two returned fire with handguns. By this point most of the witnesses were running for their lives, so further testimonies are nearly non-existent. Footage taken by a helicopter that was called to the place of the shoot-out managed to take the footage of a second assailant, apparently a young woman of African descent. Afterwards under yet unknown circumstances it crashed. The crew is currently held in the city hospital and are said to be at the brink of death. Now when he thought about it, it was kind of strange that the helicopter was there so soon. Did someone tip them off? The people living close weren't much of a help, most noticed something was happening only after the helicopter crashed and then spent the rest of the day hiding under their couches. Approximately 5 minutes after the helicopter's crash, the gas-pump near the mall blew-up which resulted in the windows braking and rubble falling on the site's surroundings. The only witnesses who can be of any further help were those that got stuck inside the mall, and to his knowledge they were all dead. Time for phase 2. "OK Jazz, let's get this over with!"  
"Are you sure you can do this now? Don't you want to rest first?"  
"Nah, the sooner the better."  
The two returned to the car, Danny lay down on the back-seat while Jazz sat next to him. Danny closed his eyes and relaxed his body. Silently he started muttering to himself "going ghost, going ghost, going ghost..." he repeated to himself like some sort of mantra. The words themselves didn't matter, the rhythm did. His mind slowly went numb and his body gave-up. He felt as one half slowly slipped out of the other. Soon he felt as if he was floating. He stood up. Underneath he saw his unconscious body and Jazz sitting next to it. She looked his direction and nodded. Of course she couldn't see him, but after a few years in this job you develop another sense that serves you just as good. He tried to open the car's door. Then he face-palmed, he kept doing the same mistake over and over. He exited the car without opening the door just as he was meant to. While the place looked terrible to living eyes, it was even worse when seen without them. He tried to ignore this and went straight to business. He entered the ruins. He carefully looked around until he saw him sitting there. He approached. "Hello there" said Danny. The figure just looked at him sadly and didn't reply. "Is there anyone else here with you?" he continued.  
"No, they all left. It's just me now."  
"Left?"  
"They went away, to fix their own stuff."  
"Why did you stay?"  
"I can't remember."  
Danny sighed and sat besides him. The person, if you could still call him that way, was a man in his early 20s. Emphasis on was. With greasy hair and skin, dressed in an equally greasy uniform of a mall employee. "I'd offer you a cigarette" said Danny "but I don't have any in this form."  
"Not that it matters any-more" said the person "even I realise I don't have lungs any more."  
"At least you can't get any cancer."  
"Back then I'd be glad to get some! My entire life was a failure, just fitting to end this way."  
"Hey, I'm sure it wasn't that bad."  
"I was a drop-out. I had no friends. I lived in my mothers basement and had to listen to her nagging about what a failure I was. I worked minimum wage in a job I hated and I died forgotten without doing a single noteworthy deed."  
"Ouch."  
"You can say that right."  
"Well, at least it seems that your death was quite a blast" Danny attempted a lame joke. The guy grinned. "Yes, looking at it now, it seems like it must have been quite a spectacle. Just typical that I didn't get to see the best parts."  
"And what did you see?"  
"Well, I was just doing my boring job at the cash counter, when I suddenly heard gunshots. I did what everyone else, I threw my self to the ground hiding my head like some retarded ostrich. The shots became louder and more rapid. I heard someone screaming like a pig being raped. Then the glass-shards started flying as they blasted the entrance door to pieces. People started running in circles like headless chicken, trampling each other to death or catching themselves a bullet bill of their own. I just did the reasonable thing like the pussy I was and hid behind the counter. But I still got to peek!"  
He looked at Danny. He listened with obvious interest. "Man, this is what I call irony."  
"What's so ironic?"  
"The first interesting thing I can tell anyone is my freaking death account."  
"Fate works in mysterious ways."  
"Fate is an ass hole, that's what it's all about!"  
"Well anyway" he continued "if I lived to tell anyone about this they wouldn't believe me. From all the uproar you'd expect the god-damn military, but it were just four guys shooting each other. Some punker and a suit were hiding behind what was left of the entrance and blasting with their revolvers as if it was some western flick. The other two were hiding between containers and a van they apparently crashed into them. It was some black chick with an Uzi and some creepy guy with a shotgun who looked like my grade-school teacher after a sniff of crack. And all those morons just run into the rain of bullets."  
"And then?"  
"You won't believe it."  
"I'm talking to a dead man, of course I'll believe you."  
"Well, the containers suddenly went on fire. No reason, just poof. The two tried to run from behind them, but then the pushcarts ambushed them."  
"Pushcarts?"  
"Yes, they were ramming them at full speed like a kamikaze squad. The two were trapped and left to burn. Then however the van moved aside and left the two out. Apparently they had a buddy driving it. The van speeded up and prepared to ram in into the two punks, but they did something and the van stopped. Then they threw a helicopter at them."  
"Who did what?"  
"I don't know, the suit did some weird things with his arms and suddenly a helicopter fell from the sky."  
Danny froze in terror, if this ghost is telling the truth then this is much bigger than they thought. "But even that didn't stop them. They probably hit behind the van or something, because right after the dust settled the two just rushed in on those other two. But then those two did something again and wires started ripping themselves out of the walls and the floor and started lashing at them like tentacles! Thought someone's going to get raped."  
Danny just stare with confusion. Not because he would have problems believing the things he heard, but because how incomprehensible the narration was.  
"And of course people were panicking and some got electrocuted and the two realised things have gotten out of hands and so they ran away, but not before that creepy guy threw two or three hand grenades into the building. The two panicked and the punker-chick punched the floor and it cracked open and the grenades fell into the chasm. But the wall cracked as well and the whole ceiling started falling down and I noticed something and I jumped and then the whole thing collapsed and then I was dead! Oh my god! Now I know!"  
"Know what?"  
"Why I stayed behind! Why I jumped!" He quickly stood up and ran towards the ruins of the mall. Danny ran after him. He stopped by a pile of rubble and phased through it "Still not late! It's still not late!" Danny phased right after him and he immediately knew what was going on. He pulled at his silver cord, no time to walk back. His soul was pulled back into his body. He didn't even fully recover and immediately yelled "Jazz, open the door! Quick!"  
Confused, she did as he said. He immediately jumped out of the vehicle and ran towards the ruins. Jazz ran after him. He threw himself near a pile of rubble and started digging furiously. "What are you doing?" "Shut up and help me!" he yelled frantically "We both took the course, now make use of it!"  
Jazz joined the effort. After a few minutes they cleared enough rubble. Underneath they found the crushed dead body of a young man. There was no mistake, it was the same guy Danny just spoke to. Without a moment of hesitation Danny pulled the body out only the reveal another body underneath. It was a young girl around her teens. Hew face was covered with blood and bruises and her broken glasses were hanging from her left ear. She was still alive.  
"Quick! Call an ambulance! Damn! Those lazy bastards didn't even look through the rubble orderly! They just tuck away the corpses that were visible and called it a day!"  
Jazz just finished her call "They are on their way" she said.  
Danny felt the guys presence. He turned around. He noticed that Jazz looked the same direction. The man smiled. They didn't see him but they had their way of knowing. Then he vanished. 


	3. Chapter 3

7 o'clock in the morning.  
Danny and Jazz just settled down in the room they hired. They desperately needed some sleep. They were quite lucky to get it. The owner of the pension said that the room's original inhabitants just left yesterday in a hurry. Of course, they could afford a much better hotel, but this place was the closest they could get without crashing the car. It's one thing to drive on the highway in the middle of the night, and another in a city during the rush-hour. To their relief the ambulance arrived in time and it seems that the girl is going to make it. Their work however is long not over. "We should contact superiors and ask them for a list of the victims and their backgrounds" Jazz said worrying. "Well, we might not have to" said Danny "the doctors said that the girl will most likely make it, one living witness is always more than the testimonies of a hundred ghosts."  
"That's only if she remembers the accident, and even if she does she'll just know as much as our departed friend. From the official info we have, the fight raged-on even after the mini-mall collapsed."  
"And what makes you think the other dead will know any more? Most of them probably died around the same time."  
"It's still worth a try, and it's always better to get a second opinion. "  
"Do you really think we can hunt them all down?"  
"They aren't going anywhere, it's not too often a ghost achieves it's salvation so soon as our informant did."  
"I guess you are right. Which side of the bed do you want?"  
"I'm sleeping near the window."

While someone's day was ending, for other people it just begun. "Tough luck, Crocker is back" said Veronica Star to her friend while walking to school. It was a pleasant warm morning in Dimmsdale, very unlike the cold weather in Hillwood. "Really?" Trixie replied with a bit of curiosity in her voice "and I thought he was gone for good."  
"Us getting rid of Francis AND Crocker in the same month? Not even that Buxaplenty kid is that lucky!"  
"I guess you're right" said Trixie "but I still wonder what happened to Francis. No one heard of him for four days by now."  
Veronica shrugged "who knows, that guy had a penchant for getting into trouble, was just a question of time"  
"True, there was no chance for happy ending there. Any idea what Crocker may have been up to?"  
"No idea, but I heard people are saying that they like saw him with some woman."  
"What? You mean like..."  
"He's been seeing her for some time now and if only that, she's supposed to be like half his age!"  
"Ooh! Never thought old Crocker had it in him!"  
"Yeah, I know... STOP IT!" she suddenly turned around and shout.  
"Yelling at the bushes again?" Trixie raised an eyebrow. "I swear it was there again!"  
"Our little stalker?"  
"Yes! I'm sure that's it! It's following us every day! I even threw a freaking brick at it once but it won't stop!"  
"Do you think it's our dear lost Francis" asked Trixie with a voice full of schadenfreude while poking Veronica.  
"Can't be him" replied Veronica with a voice that would put Batman to shame "It's been following us for months! Plus if it was him I would smell it!"  
"Well, I can understand him a bit" Trixie replied while giggling to herself. "Let me guess" said veronica with a more playful tone "because you are so damn pretty?"  
"Bingo! You won the washing machine!"  
Veronica laughed while suppressing the urge to bitch-slap her. They arrived to school in time, with Veronica still looking over her shoulders. "Hello Trixie!" a familiar voice called from behind their backs while they were entering the classroom. "Get the hell off of my back!" yelled Veronica.  
"Who the hell was talking to you?" the person replied.  
"And why the hell should Trixie waste her time talking to you?"  
"Don't worry, I'll take it. What's the problem Turner?"  
"Well... eh..."  
"Hurry up! The class is about to start! Don't worry, I won't bite your head-off" Trixie hurried him with a slight bit of annoyance in her voice.  
"Well, I've got tickets to the game tomorrow, would you like to go?"  
"Ah, sorry, but I'm already going there with Veronica, but thanks for the thought" she said with a fake tone of regret in her voice and patted him on the head as one would a puppy. With a look of disappointment he walked to his desk. "You are going to take me to the game tomorrow?" Veronica asked with a voice full of expectations.  
"Well, now I'll have to, at least I didn't have any other plans for tomorrow."  
"Bitch"  
"What?"  
"Nothing"  
"What's up with you and Turner anyway?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Come on, every time he shows-up you either freak-out or are all tense. Not to mention that you treat him like trash!"  
"You're not too sweet to him either."  
"That's something else! I do what I must, but you are being malicious."  
"He... He's... He's a damn freak!" hissed Veronica while clenching her fists.  
"I don't think he's that bad, for a commoner I mean."  
"Oh, if you only knew..."  
"What?"  
"Nothing"  
"Bimbo"  
"I heard that!"  
"Whatever"  
All the pupils took their place as the lesson was about to start. The bell rang. Mr. Crocker the home-room teacher entered the classroom. He looked exhausted and his face was covered with bruises. His eye occasionally twitched. "Good morning students" he started "after two days of my absence for reasons that are of absolutely no concern to you, I'm back. Who ever asks any dumb questions shall look forward to a lengthy detention! So let us begin!"  
Veronica chose her place carefully and made sure she would always be able to sit like this. She would sit right behind Trixie, so that she'd be able to reach-out to her and pick-up the loose hair on her back without her realising it, but also in the right angle to see Timmy Turner. Or at least what everyone thought was Timmy Turner. Oh if they only knew. Timmy Turner always head her... ehm, attention, and so she knew that this person was definitely not Timmy Turner. They seem to have switched places around four years ago. One day this person simply came and apparently convinced everyone to be the same person as the lost boy. Not that anyone missed him in the first place. He indeed looked and sounded like him in every way, but she just knew it wasn't him. It's hard to explain why. It's like when your parents run over your dog, then panic and buy another dog that looks exactly like the one they killed so you won't notice, but you just know it's not your dog despite your parents trying everything to convince you of the opposite including punishing you for not believing your own parents. Yes, she never forgave them that one, even after she grew to like that dog. It drove her nuts. For all these years she didn't know what happened to him. Whenever she tried to get something out of that fake, he just acted as if he didn't understand her and continued playing the part. She wanted to beat-it-out of him, but then she realised that he may as well deny it all and that it would make her look like a nut-job. And our high-and-mighty Trixie can't hang-around with some nut-job after all. With all due honesty, Veronica did doubt her sanity for some time. But that was only until she noticed that the four-eyed girl was acting strangely. Unlike Timmy who actually had friends and people who would listen to him, this girl was an easy target. She took her time and all of her creativity to pull all she needed to know out of her. After an hour or so she broke down in tears and told her everything. Turns out she noticed the change as well, and was pretty much going trough the same shit as her. This was enough to assure Veronica of her sanity, but is also added to her frustration of not being able to do anything about it. A few days ago, Francis disappeared. Not that she would miss him. Not that anyone would miss him. That guy was a piece of shit with no redeeming values, good riddance. But despite his worthlessness he still counts. That fake has definitely something to do with it!  
Oh yes, it definitely has something to do with that strange stalker. That bastard has set his sights on Trixie or even herself, but she won't let him! Oh no! They won't get this one as long as she's alive!  
Trixie shuddered a bit.

The rest of the school day went on more or less peacefully. No one got decapitated or disembowelled, at least for now, which is a good thing. People didn't screw around too much. The only noteworthy thing could be considered that during the gym class whenever Timmy, or at least the person everyone believed to be him, got bottles thrown at him repeatedly whenever he tried to talk to Chester and AJ. The assailant wasn't found, but everything suggested that the projectiles were thrown from the bushes and the tree tops. Similar accidents happened often past the last few months.  
Just as Veronica's feeling of constantly being watched, and Trixie's apparent obliviousness to it. The worst part was that she was mostly right.

"Come-on Trixie" yelled Veronica "school's over for today, don't want to stay here any second longer!"  
Trixie just silently giggled at something she found in her locker, and then went with Veronica. As they exited the school, a pair of eyes watched them from the bushes. A pair of wild, beast-like eyes. Eyes fixed on their target. The stalker moved with incredible stealth, sneaking trough the bushes and hiding in the shadows without being noticed by any mortal. His movements were fast, his breath was heavy. He watched their every step, their every movement along their path. He carefully listened to every bit of their conversation and delightfully inhaled their smell. He followed their steps until Trixie's house.  
He watched her enter. And then he ran.

He ran to the woods. He moved between the trees with incredible speed, agility and stealth. The green forest was flicking by in front of his yes. He heard the wind in the trees and felt it in his hair and on his skin. He felt the beautiful smell of the trees, the soil and the moss. He felt the moist ground on his bare feet. His feet quickly jumped over rocks and branches without a sound. He finally found the hut. He slowed down. He slowly crept towards it. He sneaked under the windows. He went to the back door and slowly opened it so he wouldn't make any noise. He sneaked into the house. He was careful not to make any noise. "Hello Timmy!" a male voice shouted. The 'intruder' sighed "hello Cosmo!" he replied.  
"Welcome back" said a female voice.  
"Hi Wanda! How the hell do you always know it when I'm in the house?"  
"It's our house" Cosmo replied "we ought to know these things! How was your stalking?"  
"Why do you always assume I'm stalking people when I'm out?" Timmy asked while entering the living room.  
There were the owners of the house. Wanda, a middle-aged but still good looking redhead, was sitting behind an improvised working table and frantically sketching something. On the floor lay her equally charming husband Cosmo as he played some video game. On the floor around him lay various shoes and cobbler instruments, the stuff he was supposed to do but didn't feel like. At least that was their mortal seeming, Timmy was one of the few people who knew their true faces. Timmy himself wasn't what he used to be. Compared to what most people believed to be him, he was allot lankier to the point of being almost gaunt. The fingers on his hands were long and thin, resembling a spider. His face had a wild streak to it, almost savage. But the most prominent feature were his eyes, the eyes of a beast. "Because that's the only thing you were doing since you returned!" "I can do allot of things to amuse my self!" Timmy protested.  
"Let's see" Wanda joined in the discussion without stopping her sketch-work "you don't go to school since your real you doesn't legally exist and people would freak out if they saw you, you can't go to the cinema, arcade or skating park without people being suspicious about you not being in school. You obviously weren't fishing or hunting because you have no prey nor do you seem messy enough for that being the case, and I seriously doubt you were just hanging out in the forest. So stalking is the only option left. Who was it today? Your old friends? Your parents? Your old crush?"  
"Bingo!" yelled Cosmo, extremely pleased with the development in his game. "There is a monster with my face on the loose and everyone believes it to be me! I can't leave them unprotected!"  
"The said monster was here during the whole three and a half years you were away from this world and nothing bad happened! After four years it's quite obvious that he has no intent of causing trouble."  
"That doesn't change the fact that he took my life!"  
"Well, technically the fetch is just as innocent as you" Cosmo commented while still playing. "True" added Wanda, now paying more attention to Timmy "his only fault is being created to replace you after the Gentry dragged you away."  
"That does not explain why I'm the one who has to hide."  
"But Timmy" said Cosmo with a cheerful voice while still having his eyes glued to the TV "you don't have to hide! In fact, you could go to your parents house right now and tell them what happened. Oh wait, they probably wouldn't take too kindly to some weird rat-kid that looks like it slept out-doors for the past two weeks claiming to be their lost son who obviously never went missing in the first place. But hey, they'd surely recognise you, every parent recognises their own child! Except that they didn't, they never noticed a thing. But that's no problem, maybe if you ask your replacement kindly enough, he'll let you have your life back! The only problem is that you two don't look too alike and so people would notice the change unlike last time, not to mention that you missed four years of school that you don't have a way to catch-up to in normal means without explaining your situation, after which they'd probably send you to a bedlam and ask us uncomfortable questions. But don't worry, we can get some fake documents and a new identity crafted for you, so we can be your legal parents and you'd get a new start with your friends. Only that people would get suspicious to our connections and why you look so much like Timmy Turner, not to mention you'd still have to catch-up on your education which would be extremely humiliating and no-one would want to talk to you ever again. When I think about it, the best solution for you would be just to leave town, and start a new life elsewhere claiming to be a homeless kid with amnesia. Hey, Wanda! I think that was your idea, right?"  
"It was just a suggestion" replied Wanda "the decision is all up to Timmy, we shall just provide the necessary support to our kindred spirit."  
"Yes, and hope that when they come back for him, we can follow them back home!"  
"Hey, we would never do that!" Wanda protested. "No, sure not" said Cosmo with a guilty voice. Timmy sighed, he was fully aware of his situation and he felt quite guilty for exploiting their hospitality, but he really didn't like the idea of leaving it all behind especially after how much he yearned for it during the time he was held captive in the other world.  
Arcadia, for the two it was a lost paradise, a home they'd like to return to. For him it was hell, the place of slavery, the place that warped his very being, he was just too eager to flee. Cosmo and Wanda weren't like those on the other side of the hedge, the years they spent amongst humanity changed them. Entire centuries if what they say is true. The human world did to them what the fairy world did to him. Sometimes he wondered, if they ever managed to return, wouldn't they be just as lost as he is now?  
"What are you playing anyway?" asked Timmy in an attempt to shrug-off the depressive implications.  
"Well, it's..."  
"Nothing that would interest you" Wanda interrupted him.  
Timmy looked at the package lying on the floor "Ah, I think I know what you mean. I'm not into dating-sims that much."  
"Yeah right..." said Cosmo blushing and suppressing a giggle, he saved his game and took out the CD. "Anyway, now that you're here" Cosmo continued "we can play a round or two of Tekken." "Hell yeah!"

Around the same time, a bus was heading to Dimmsdale.  
Amongst it's passengers was a odd-couple. A woman in punk-attire and a guy in a suit with a bowler hat and a monocle. "But I dun' wanna go there!" complained the woman.  
"It's the best alternative" replied the man.  
"But don we hate'm?"  
"That's just how our situation is. Look, it's not a permanent solution, just until things calm down a bit."

Yet in another location a pale-skinned teen was running trough a field of crops. He was exhausted, hunger and thirst tortured him and he was barely breathing. Yet he continued running with all his strength. They wouldn't believe him. The police tried to take him away, but he caught-up. He killed a cow and blocked the road with it. When the deputes came to check it he knocked them out. He hijacked the car and fled, but due to his poor driving skills he didn't get too far. And he was still chasing him. Now it's day, he can't hunt during the day but he wouldn't allow him to rest. He sent crows and rats after him. His body was still covered with wounds. And he seems to have called upon something bigger, something relentless. He needs to run. 


	4. Chapter 4

An afternoon at the Drymon Clinical Hospital in Hillwood.  
"Get me the hell out of here!"  
Definitely not a peaceful one.  
"Miss Pataki! Please! You must not move!"  
"And who the hell are you to tell me!"  
"I'm your doctor!"  
"And I don't give a damn!"  
Half of the section's staff had all their hands full with restraining the young lady, who was boiling with rage. Outside the room, two doctors were watching.  
"Just when you think that nothing can surprise you any-more, you get something like this."  
"To think that only yesterday she had to undergo difficult surgery!"  
"Yeah, the bullet hit a vital point. It's a miracle she survived the surgery! She shouldn't even be awake, yet here she is beating-up our staff!"  
"Didn't anyone sedate her?"  
"They did!"  
"They don't get paid enough for this!"  
While the two were caught-up in the conversation, a large man entered the room.  
"Why the hell are you limiting my daughter's personal freedom!"  
"Mr. Pataki" said the attending doctor "your daughter has undergone a difficult spinal surgery, she must not move until the wound is fully healed!"  
"Says who?"  
"The medical staff, regulations, common sense..."  
"Meh, what's possibly the worst thing that could happen?"  
"The strain would be too much for her body and her spine would snap, leaving her paralysed for the rest of her life."  
"Wait! Hold right there! Are you trying to tell me that if my draff of a daughter won't lay still, I'll have her on my back for the rest of my life?"  
"Pretty much."  
"Olga! I forbid you to move a muscle until the good doctor tells you otherwise!"  
"My name is Helga!"  
"Yeah, whatever. Doctor, sedate this child immediately!"  
"But she is already sedated!"  
"Then sedate her even more!"  
"That might kill her."  
"Well, at least she won't be a cripple" said he while trying to force a laugh out of himself.  
"Why do I get the feeling he was being serious?" muttered one of the doctors observing the scene.  
"I bet you'd love to see that" Helga remarked with a highly irritated voice.  
"Don't be silly Olga!"  
"Helga!"  
"Whatever, me and your mother are both worried about you!"  
"Than how come you didn't come to visit until now? It's been two days! In fact, where the hell is Miriam?"  
"Your mother wanted to visit ever since the moment she heard you had your little accident, but..."  
"Little accident? I've got freaking shot! I don't even want to know what would have to happen to me to get your attention!"  
"You always had our fullest attention!"  
"Yes? Bob! You didn't even pay attention when..."  
Bob's cellphone suddenly rang.  
"Wait a minute!... What?... Tomorrow?... Hold on e second!..." he turned to Helga "sorry, have to go" he returned to his call "Those guys are nuts!"  
Ranting and raving Big Bob walked out of the hospital.  
"You know" said one of the doctors "now I think I can understand where all that rage comes from."

Back at home, Arnold was heavily unnerved.  
Unnerved was a weak expression. Wrecked would be more appropriate. He didn't recover ever since he saw that news report. It didn't get any better even after they told him that they found Phoebe and that she's going to make it. Arnold didn't want to admit this to himself, but this wasn't really about his friends. For the past few days he was just a mere shadow of his former self. Whether at home or at school, all he did was to stare in front of himself.  
"Hey, cheer-up Arnold!" said Gerald "Things are turning-up fine!"  
"What do you mean by fine? Just look at yourself!"  
"Nah, the doctor said I'd be fine. The bullet didn't hit any vital parts, I just won't be able to use my left arm for a while. It's going to be a boring weekend."  
"And what about the others?"  
"Helga's mother said that her surgery was successful, the doctors were afraid she might end-up paralysed, but she seems to be recovering just fine. Phoebe, thanks god, is just unconscious and dehydrated. The only-one that makes me worried is Eugene. They say that something has torn him in half, just a rumour, and that the doctors are putting him back together."  
"Eugene went with you as well?"  
"No, he just happened to be there."  
"And what about Harold, Stinky and Sid? I haven't seen them in school ever since!"  
"Those? They got away unharmed. Ran away as soon as the shooting begun. I'd do the same, but I had to drag Helga out of there!"  
"Aha."  
"Anyway, how are the new guys?"  
"Who?"  
"Your grandfather told me you got new boarders."  
"Haven't seen them yet. They came during the night and are still sleeping, grandpa says that they won't stay long, they came to town for business only."  
"Don't you think it is strange that as soon as the Reddish skipped town another couple took their place?"  
"No, I don't! And you shouldn't either! Wasn't one bullet enough!"  
"Calm down man! I wasn't suggesting anything. Has your grandfather already told the police?"  
"No he hasn't, even thou I'm sure he recognised them just like everyone else. The two were quite nice despite their quirks and it was obviously self-defence"  
"Tell that to my arm!"  
"So why won't you tell?"  
"Touch ."  
As they spoke a young red-haired woman dressed in a long bath-robe and with a sleepy look on her face passed them by.  
"Good afternoon Mrs. Fenton."  
She looked their way, for a moment it seemed like she wanted to say something but instead she just walked past them murmuring "good day to you too."

Same time, different place. Possibly on the other end of the country.  
A girl was walking down the highway. She walked for hours under the hot sun, yet her skin remained pale. Her messy, unnaturally looking blue hair was tied in two pig-tales. She wore a blue skirt and a shirt in poor condition. A week has passed since she was driven out of the last town. She's been surviving on whatever she could find. Her injuries were almost completely healed at this point. Deep inside she was actually glad it turned-out this way. She could handle a beating, but she wasn't sure if she could handle another re-lapse. Humans are fragile beings, a painful fact she knew just too well.  
The road-sign showed that she was approaching another town. She knew the situation will most likely just repeat itself, but she also knew she must not give-up.  
After all, she made friends in the past. They still are friends even thou she had to leave.  
Every single time. Because if you stay around your friends for too long they'll eventually try to kill you. They can't help it, it's in your nature. So to keep friends you have to leave them.  
In a way, being chased-out by an angry mob was usually the least painful outcome of her encounters with humanity. Things could get worse, oh so much worse.  
She walked the direction shown by the sign.  
After around a hour of walking she reached the town. It looked like your typical American small-town. You know, one of those from old crappy sitcoms where everyone is always smiling in that creepy unnatural way. Where everyone is so sickeningly sweet to one another?  
Yeah, they are usually nice. Until they realise you are different. They start saying things behind your back. They start avoiding you. They start giving you that stare. They become cold and unfriendly towards you. They start rejecting your company and are mean to you. And then the rocks, bricks and bottles start flying your way. Before you know you are dodging shotgun blasts and run from a mob complete with pitchforks and torches.  
There were days when she would return the favour, but then she learned that they just couldn't help it...  
That realisation caused her more horror and pain than the worst beat-dow.

Upon entering the town, she noticed there was something wrong.  
These towns tend to be calm, but this place was beyond the impossible.  
The whole place was engulfed in ominous silence. Not even birds could be heard.  
The streets were completely empty. It was as if suddenly everyone disappeared.  
Upon further examination things became worse.  
The fences were pushed-over on some places. The hedges, normally carefully tended, were all ruffed-up. There was even a car standing in the middle of the road with it's front door open.  
She examined it. The tank was empty. It seemed as if someone left the motor running until the gas ran out. On a lawn near the car she noticed deep riffles, as if someone was being dragged while trying to resist. She followed the riffles. They lead her behind a garage.  
The back wall was fully splattered with blood.  
"This is bad" she thought to herself "if anyone finds me here there's going to be a load of trouble."  
She further examined her surrounding. The blood seemed to be at least a few days old. That would fit with the car. She noticed the phone-lines being thorn-down. The place seemed isolated. It may take weeks before someone else comes here.  
After a moment of thinking she decided the best thing to do would be to find someone, anyone, and ask them what happened.  
Her first action was quite predictable. She started yelling at the whole town.  
The only answer she got was an echo.  
After it became sadly obvious that no-one will reply to her calls, she decided to investigate. Starting with the nearest house.  
The front door was left wide open.  
She entered the house.  
The place seemed to be in good shape.  
Just out of politeness she called out for the houses inhabitants.  
No reply.  
The ground floor was neat and well furnished. It was obvious that until very recently a family lived here. The food in the refrigerator still looked fresh.  
Upstairs things didn't look so well. The corridor's walls were splattered with blood and there were signs of a small fight. A futile attempt at resistance.  
The bedroom was a complete mess with furniture smashed to pieces and blood-stains everywhere.  
She entered the children's bedroom. To her grief she found exactly what she expected. She sadly turned away from the blood-soaked sheets and went downstairs.  
The sight caused some memories resurface. Memories that should be best forgotten.  
She sat on the couch.  
Only now she noticed how hungry and tired she was.  
Her last meal consisted of a dead raccoon and some thistles.  
She headed into the kitchen and quickly went trough the fridge and attic. She quickly assembled a hefty meal consisting of large amounts cheese, bacon, bread, raw fish tomatoes, pie and canned beans. She washed the meal down with a bottle of gin.  
She never really understood how the eating thing worked. She saw what human insides look like. She compared them with her own. They didn't match. From what she understood she shouldn't be able to eat, yet she does.  
Alcohol also didn't seem to affect her the same way as it did humans. No matter how much she drank she never got drunk, alto it still managed to soothe her nerves.  
Afterwards she headed for the bathroom and took a long hot bath. She had to use the opportunity, it could take months before she would get another chance like this.  
She looked into the mirror as it glazed over. She sighed sadly from the look at her pale, lifeless, doll-like face and her cold, empty, glass eyes. No illusion can trick the mirror, alto sometimes she was wondering whether it could ever fool anyone to begin with.  
She thought about her current situation.  
The town was isolated. All contacts to the outside world were severed. No-one will probably come here for at least a month.  
There is probably enough food in town to enable her to live a very comfortable life-style for at least one half of the year. It's definitely a good place to lay low for some time.  
However first she should go and try to find out what happened to the towns inhabitants.  
First of all, whoever got them may soon go after her.  
Also there might be survivors. They'll most likely blame it all on her, but maybe she'll be able to talk enough sense into them to be of at least some help.  
She got out of the bath. Then she went to find herself some fresh clothings.  
It took her some time until she found some underwear that would fit her. Most of the stuff was too big for here. Finally she found some panties that apparently shrunk in the washing machine.  
She also took a blue shirt. It was a bit large for her, but it didn't matter much.  
She couldn't find the right skirt, and so she just washed her old one with soap and hot water. It'll dry along the way.  
Finally she got a pair of sneakers. They seemed to fit quite well.  
Clothed, she set-out for the town.  
First she looked trough the house across the street.  
The situation was the same. The bedroom was a mess with bloody splinters lying everywhere. The windows in the kids bedroom were stained with blood.  
The second house was the same.  
The third house had a bloody toilet.  
In front of the fifth she found a blood-splattered dog house.  
Only more evidences of a massacre in the sixth.  
So the seventh.  
However while looking trough the eight house she noticed something different, no blood!  
The place was trashed, but there wasn't a bloody mess. This either means that the inhabitants were killed without spilling blood and their bodies were taken away as the rest, or that they are still alive somewhere!  
She took a brake for a moment and thought. There is a fair chance they fled town to get help. If that's the case, the town will soon get visitors. Inconvenient.  
However there is also a fair chance they got captured. If that's the case, whoever did that would probably need a place to hold them.  
Another possibility is that the people managed to organise after the ambush and moved to a place they could better defend themselves. It would have to be some place big enough for a large group. They would also most likely prefer a place where they would have access to resources. Humans always do that, she had enough experience with these things.  
Now if she only had some kind of a map...

It was already getting dark. She spent the last hour wandering the streets of the now empty town. Here and there she could spot small reminders of attempted resistance.  
Bared doors and windows ripped open. Smashed cars. A tree-house torn down with the whole tree. Sights not unfamiliar to her.  
What was worse however was that something was watching her. She could feel it's gaze on her back. She must not let her guard down. Whatever did this must be at least as tough as her.  
After a while she found what she was looking for, the Police station.  
Her predictions were correct, but her timing was off by days .  
There were signs of a massive fight. The front gate was smashed to pieces. Bullet holes were everywhere. The walls were covered in blood. The floor showed signs of people being dragged away and disappearing without a trace.  
After a while of looking around she found what she was looking for. The town map.  
While she was examining the map something crept in her way.  
It came from behind.  
It's movements were silent.  
That's at least until another part of it's body did a sudden movement and ruined all attempts at a stealthy attack.  
She quickly turned around.  
Inside the shadows she saw the creature.  
She suppressed a scream.  
It's not like the creature would look threatening, but it was just so...  
What she saw in front of herself was a large house cat and a beagle.  
Only that they were one.  
It was a pretty grotesque sight, and she saw many weird things during her travels.  
It seemed almost as if the two were made from modelling clay, and some prankster thought it would be fun to mould their back-sides together.  
She tried to approach it.  
"Aren't you a pretty one."  
The creature stepped back, walking sidewards like a crab would. It simultaneously hissed and gnarled at her.  
"Ah, come-on! Don't be afraid!" she said and started to concentrate. It was a little trick she learned a while ago.  
"Calm down. Come here."  
The creature approached her. She took it in her arm and started scratching it behind it's ears, taking turns.  
The creature began to purr and pant in delight.  
"It's not safe for you here, you should come with me."  
She looked around the place one more time. She found some guns lying around. She thought about it for a minute. She wasn't too good with guns, her aim was terrible.  
However she decided in favour of taking them, just in case. She took a pistol and a shotgun from the police armoury. There were also a few revolvers and hunting rifles which probably belonged to civilians who fought their last stand along with the police. She took one of each. Then she gathered all the ammunition she could carry and got a long coat with multiple deep pockets to carry it all.  
Equipped and with her cat-dog companion on her side she set out for the second most likely place survivors may be hiding in.

By the time she got to the mall in was already night.  
The place wasn't too big, basically what you would expect from a place like this.  
All the entrances were covered in rubble.  
Barricades perhaps?  
She cleared away the rubble at the front door and entered.  
The place looked better than she expected. It was trashed at some places with some bullet-holes here and there, but there were no signs of carnage.  
She started to look around. The electricity was still in tact.  
She noticed something moving between the shelves.  
"Hello!" she called.  
No answer.  
She went it's direction.  
Her two-headed companion separated itself from her and began plundering the coolers.  
"Hello" she called again. She looked behind the shelves but there was nothing there.  
She focused her senses.  
She heard a noise.  
It was coming back from the storeroom right behind the baked goods.  
She entered the room.  
It was fairly large.  
On the other side of the room she saw a vague silhouette.  
"Hello"  
No answer "Don't worry, I won't hurt you."  
The silhouette seemingly turned her direction.  
"Could you please tell me what happened here?"  
The figure started walking towards her.  
There was something strange about it's movements.  
They were stiff and twitchy. It slowly shambled towards her.  
As it came closer, it's features became more visible. It had a vaguely female figure. It's head was bald. The ears were missing. So were any facial features. It seemed as if it's face was melted-off, like that of a wax-puppet. It's legs were stiff and barefoot, the toes fused into one. The figure wore a short dress that looked as if it was made out of it's own skin. In fact, it seemed as if it was a part of it's body. It's arms were skinny and it's long fingers ended with cat-like claws. Out of it's right hand grew a long bone-like spike resembling the blade of a knife.  
"Ehm, hello" she tried to suppress her surprise "how did you get here?"  
The being remained silent, continuing to shamble in her direction.  
"You know what happened here?"  
No answer. It's twitchy walk became faster. It became a sprint.  
"Eh..." the blade swung just inches away from her face.  
"Stop it" the being continued swinging the blade savagely, the plastic girl barely dodging the strikes.  
"You don't have to do this!"  
The being was deaf and blind towards reasoning. It was driven by pure indiscriminate rage towards anything to violate it's territory.  
It dished out one attack after another, the pale hands of metal and plastic barely able to block them.  
The being concentrated all of it's strength into one blow. It aimed for her throat. But before the blade could hit, the creatures face was intercepted with a heavy punch.  
It's face cracked and black sticky blood began oozing out.  
Another punch followed into the stomach, crushing all of it's insides.  
The creature let out an ear-piercing shriek of pain. It swung it's bladed arm, only for it to be intercepted by the strong mechanic hand. The bones broke like matches.  
"Had enough?"  
The thing's twitching became even more frantic and filled with agony.  
The creature let out a scream that sounded eerily human. It leapt for the living doll with it's last strength.  
A swift kick sent it to the ground, snapping it's spine in half.  
The creature however stood up and charged again.  
The next kick shattered it's pelvis.  
A heavy punch broke the ribcage.  
The creature screamed in pain and fell to the ground.  
But even with it's broken body it still crept towards her.  
"This won't work" she said sadly "your heart and lungs suffered lethal injuries. You'll just choke on your own blood. I'm sorry."  
The creature wheezed.  
"I'm really sorry" she repeated and stomped on it's neck.  
A snapping sound echoed throughout the storeroom, then it was silent.  
Suddenly she noticed shadows creeping towards her from all sides. Grotesque creatures of all shapes and sizes began to shamble and crawl in her direction, hissing moaning and wheezing.  
"Oh Jenny girl, what have you gotten yourself into again." 


	5. Chapter 5

She stood there, surrounded by grotesque creatures varying in shapes and size. Some resembled humans with their features melted-off, others were skeletal with a chitinous looking skin, some were bloated, some looked flayed, and some had barely any resemblance of humanity left to them. But the probably most disturbing ones were the small ones. The ones that looked like children with large gaping jaws, stitched-up eyes, and long blade-like nails instead of fingers.  
They were approaching.  
It was obvious that there was no reasoning with them.  
Jenny slowly backed out of the storage-room, but upon turning around she saw that the store itself was already crawling with more of these.  
She had to get out.  
She turned around and ran for the exit.  
The creatures immediately leaped after her.  
Five small ones pounced her and began clawing at her.  
With a single movement she threw them off. They immediately leaped again. She punched two of them across the hall. She ducked the other two. The last one she intercepted with a devastating headbutt. A sound of the creatures bones crushing and organs squishing could be heard as it collided with the titanium and hard plastic.  
She continued her escape, ducking the beings leaping at her. By the time she reached the exit however it was too late. The entrance was blocked by a huge crowd of the creatures. Her pursues were catching-up to her. There was only one way. Fight her way out.  
She pulled out the shotgun and blasted the horde. Her aiming skills were pretty bad normally, but the close distance and the enormous mass of her target made sure she would hit something. She re-loaded and fired again, advancing forward. And again. The creatures were falling before her feet. But it wasn't enough.  
Four tall, featureless figures grabbed her. She tried to brake free, but they were surprisingly strong. The other creatures rushed at her, stabbing, cutting and slashing with their stings, blades and claws.

Meanwhile near the boarders of Hillwood.  
All those days he spent running started to show their toil.  
Day and night. No rest. Hunger. Dehydration. Nausea. And it still kept on chasing him.  
He was far beyond the point of despair. He already gave-up. He kept-on moving only out of habit. He knew that even if he reached the city it would account to nothing. Nobody would believe him. They'd just lock him up, and then the... the thing will get him and do indescribably horrifying things to him. And there is absolutely nothing he can do about it, nothing at all. Any further attempt to run will only result in further agony. More pointless suffering.  
He gave-up.  
He collapsed near the side of the road. There was no reason to continue. May they come.  
He won't resist.

Her clothes were thorn. Her body slashed, bashed and stabbed. The pain was intense. Her plastic body cracked on several spots. The only thing holding her together was her titanium skeleton.  
She endured savage beatings before. She knew what it was to be stomped and stabbed by an insane mob. But this, this was different.  
There was no rage, no fear, no hatred in their attacks. There were no real emotions behind their attacks, all just empty motion. Nothing more.  
They weren't raging beasts, even tho they might have seemed like that at the first glance. They were just machines made from flesh and bones. Machines created to hunt and kill.  
No souls.  
No reason to hold back.  
She tore through them with inhuman strength.  
She crushed their skulls and rib-cages with the shotgun's stock.  
She burst out of the door into the dark street.  
They were shambling down the road, crawling out of the alleys.  
She set-out for the hospital. She knew there most likely won't be any survivors by this point, but she didn't know where else to go.  
She ran, the creatures constantly leaping and lashing out at her from all sides.  
She emptied the rest of the shotgun's ammunition into them, and then ran through the briefly clear path. She swung her empty shotgun wildly at any creature that would come near her, advancing further as the masses were slowly closing in on her.  
Soon the path was impassable once again and another wave of beasts was ready to descend upon her. She quickly exchanged the shotgun for the hunting rifle, shooting at point blank. But it wasn't enough. She again found herself struggling with the fangs and claws of the beasts, only being able to use her rifle as a club. She concentrated and mobilized all her strength once again. Her blows crushed the creatures, he tore through the masses leaving pure carnage behind her. She didn't even care. She threw them to the ground and stomped them as she went. The sound of crushing bones and dripping guts reminding her of the old days where everything was so much simpler.  
It almost felt nostalgic.  
She almost found herself...  
...enjoying it!  
Not good. Definitely not a good thing.  
As she advanced she felt the heat in her chest getting stronger, filling her with vigor.  
Each lethal blow she threw made her feel more alive, more like her old self.  
By the time she reached the hospital she was grinning.  
A crowd was blocking the entrance.  
She pulled-out the guns and rushed at them.  
She threw herself into the middle of the horde, kicking and shooting wildly around herself.  
The ammunition went out fast, but that didn't stop her. She started tearing through them with her bare hands.  
She no longer cared about the town's people or even her own safety, she only cared about killing as many of these little fuckers as possible.  
And with every kill the heat became stronger.  
She dropped the last restraint.  
Lightnings erupted from her body and began frying everything around her.  
The fire completely enveloped her.  
She tore off limbs, crushed ribs and busted heads. The smell of blood and burnt flesh filled her mind. She lost herself in the carnage.  
She could hear the echoes of people pleading for mercy and inhuman screams of the tortured.  
The fire consumed her.

She came to herself in a dark, cold and damp room. Her entire body hurt.  
The remnants of her clothes were soaked with blood.  
She even felt it's taste in her mouth.  
"Did I..."  
She remembered what happened, and felt miserable.  
She re-lapsed again. After all the promises she made, after all she went through. Nothing changed. She's still the same violent, selfish monster she was before.  
But there was no time for self-pity.  
She looked around. The place seemed like a doctor's office.  
The door was closed with a table blocking it.  
She reached-out for a nearby lamp and tried to turn-on the light.  
It didn't work.  
Upon further investigation she noticed that there was no electricity in the room. Probably a black-out. Right now when she needed electricity the most.  
She stood-up and felt exhausted.  
No way she would survive an onslaught like that again. Not like this.  
Jenny realized that she still had all her guns.  
She investigated the pockets of her coat.  
There was still some ammo.  
She reloaded.  
"This is going to be tough" Jenny thought as she approached the blocked door "there may be hundreds of them crawling trough the corridors."  
She carefully listened.  
It was quiet.  
She unblocked the door, took a deep breath and opened it.  
The corridor was empty. She carefully left the office and looked around.  
There was no trace of them. Almost as if they vanished.  
Is it a trap?  
She didn't have the luxury to think about it. First of all things she needed a re-charge.  
There was no electricity.  
There was no time to look for food. She needed a power-boost, fast.  
There was only one solution she could think about.  
Go down and find the emergency generator. At least she hoped it was there.

Minutes passed as she walked down the corridors and down the stairs.  
To be honest, she had no idea where she was going, but something made her think that the generator would be on the lowest floor.  
The hospital was quiet. Eerily quiet considering the hell she went trough not so long ago.  
She reached the lowest floor. The underground morgue.  
After exploring for a while, she discovered something disturbing.  
Or to be exact, didn't discover.  
"Where are all the bodies? Isn't this supposed to be a morgue?"  
At that moment she realized something was watching her.  
Before she could do anything, a long prehensile tongue knocked her to the ground.  
It quickly warped itself around her leg and began dragging her towards an air-duct. She grabbed it and pulled with all her strength. It didn't work out too well. The tongue began pulling her up the wall. She pushed her leg against the wall, and using it as a support she puled again. This time she was successful. She plunged to the floor, the creature atop of her.  
It's teeth snapped inches away from her face. She quickly pushed the thing down and stood-up.  
The creature was downright horrible to look at. It looked like a large man without his skin. In place of it's face was a large maul full of razor-sharp teeth. It's brain was exposed, and it's limbs twisted in an awkward way as if someone clumsily tried to turn a bipedal creature quadrupedal.  
It growled like an asthmatic pit-bull and foamed from it's mouth.  
It shot it's tongue a second time. It warped around her hand.  
Jenny pulled out the revolver and shot it in the had.  
"THAT. WAS. RETARDED!" she yelled. "Seriously? Exposing the most vulnerable organ like that? No God! No evolution would form like that! Whoever made that thing is a moron!"  
"It was just a work in progress."  
Jenny quickly turned around. A large fist punched her in the face, knocking her to the ground.  
She looked-up and saw a giant monstrosity towering above her. It's body at first looked like a naked, muscular man, but upon a second glance it was obvious it wasn't so simple. It wore something that resembled priest robes, only that it wasn't clothing. It was it's own skin. It's face was grotesquely deformed. It's huge nose looked like it was turned inside-out and it merged with it's even larger ears, forming a sort of fleshy flower. It's mouth was filled with fangs. The only things that looked human were it's long, blond hair, and it's blue eyes.  
"Excuse me for my rudeness" it said with a deep, very human voice "but I can't allow you to just crash into my domain like this."  
"Who are you?"  
"I'm currently known under the name of Grigori. Does the charming lady care to introduce herself?"  
"Jenny" she said, clearly confused by the situation.  
"So, miss Jenny, what brings you into my humble haven?"  
"Well... I was trying to find out what happened to the town's inhabitants."  
"I'm sure you already had the opportunity to find out."  
"I don't understand... where are they?"  
"You spent the entire evening in their company"  
Jenny froze with terror.  
"You pulled quite a number on them, I must say I'm indeed impressed. It's a good thing they can be easily recycled."  
"BASTARD!" she yelled as a shot was heard.  
Grigori looked at the bullet-wound in his chest with an unimpressed look in his eyes.  
Jenny continued shooting. The darkness around her suddenly morphed into tentacles. Two of them quickly shot at her and disarmed her. Many more followed. They felt like glass and oil. Jenny struggled with all her might, but it was of no use. There were too many of them, and she was too exhausted. Within seconds she was completely immobilized.  
Grigori just stood there like nothing happened. The wounds in his chest closed like his flesh was mud.  
Behind him a tall slender man stepped out of the darkness. His face was snow-white. He wore a black suit that melted into the darkness, making him a part of it.  
Grigori slowly walked towards Jenny, raising his hand. She was paralyzed wit fear. He laid his hand on her forehead. A look of surprise appeared in his eyes. He slid his hand down her cheek. He slipped his other hand under her clothes. He slid it down from her chest to her hip. She wanted to scream, but she knew it would be of no use.  
"Interesting" he said after a while. "During all my years walking this earth, I have never seen something like this!"  
He looked into her eyes, and said with a very official tone "Dear miss Jenny, I would be glad if you became my new test-subject." 


End file.
